


Cruor

by CaptainAndrews17



Category: Vampyr (Video Game)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:40:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25091020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainAndrews17/pseuds/CaptainAndrews17
Summary: It was supposed to be an easy fix for the Good Doctor. Little did he know that the woman he had found in Whitechapel would become his Progeny.Inspired by a Vampyr ASMR video I found
Relationships: Elisabeth Ashbury & Jonathan Reid
Kudos: 3





	Cruor

Prelude: Survival of the fittest.

Doctor Johnathan Reid sat back on his rolling stool, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as his eyes drifted to the bite marks in the poor woman’s neck.

However, his smile rapidly disappeared as the woman gave a moan and her eyes flickered open; they were a soft grey instead of the deep brown they had been moments before.

“No-” the doctor gasped, jumping backwards in shock. All he’d done was bite her. He hadn’t intended to turn her!

“Where am I-” her eyes latched on him, and Johnathan swore he could hear the sound of her heartbeat echoing in his ears as she ripped the restraints on her arms.

“Stay right where you are!” Jonathan leapt to his feet and backed out of the examination room, turning around to run for the freezer room where he kept his bags of blood.

The woman’s fangs broke through her skin and she screeched in pain, her eyes flashing yellow.

He came back into the room, his arms filled with bags of blood. He slammed the door of the examination room shut and began to mix a bag.

He stopped in his tracks as he remembered what Lady Ashbury had said about recently turned Ekons, and how they needed unfiltered blood within mere minutes of their transformation, otherwise, they would risk going insane.

He chugged that bag of filtered blood down and ripped off the seal of another, which he poured into a beaker and handed to the young woman off to his left.

She sipped it greedily, her pupils expanding from the sheer satisfaction it brought, as well as quenching her gnawing hunger.

After she had consumed four bags, he cut her off and found that she was looking a little more human.

“Where am I?” she repeated, cocking her head to one side.

“My hideout. I’m Doctor Johnathan Reid,” he held out his hand to her, which she shook.

“Sorry about that, Doctor,” she gave a bashful smile and tucked a strand of brown hair behind her ear.

“I found you abandoned in an alley in Whitechapel, with slashes up and down your arms from both a Skal attack and several men who’d decided to have their way with you,” he added, rolling back the sleeves of his blood-stained shirt.

She nodded, clearly listening.

“I brought you back here and began to heal you. If I hadn’t found you, you would’ve been dead days ago,”

Her pupils blew wide and her jaw hung open, showing Johnathan her fangs.

“I’ve been here for days? I remember you speaking to me a little while ago-”

“You’re correct in your observations. I was overcome by hunger and bit your neck. However I didn’t know that I’d turned you,”

“T-turned me? Into what? A Vulkod?”

He threw back his head and laughed, shocking the woman.

“No! Quite the opposite. You are an Ekon, just like me. Except you are my Progeny,”

“Progeny?” she repeated, dumbfounded.

“I turned you, making me your Maker. I’ll be here to help you through your first few years of being an Ekon,” he explained, crossing his arms.

“I never learned your name, Ms-”

“Petunia Brookley,” she answered, her tone becoming sharp.

“Ms Brookley. Do you have any questions?”  
Her head whirled as she tried to sift through the fog of the pain of being turned. She pressed her fingers together as she thought.

“My mask. Oh, lordy!” she jumped to her feet and nearly fainted, her face paling.

“What’s wrong, Ms Brookley?” He asked, grabbing her arms.

“My sister. She has the flu. I was trying to get to Pembroke, to get a nurse or something. I was attacked,” she stared at her feet, her eyes welling with tears.

“Tell me your address,” he pulled on his trenchcoat, turning to look at her.

“14 Cherry Lane, East End. Hopefully, she’s not-” she watched him melt into the shadows and felt a breath of wind across her skin, even though all the windows were shut.

Through the blinds tacked over the windows, she saw the sky turning a deep purple, signalling that dawn was close.

Petunia’s eyes scanned the room, her nose wrinkling at the smell of blood. Thankfully, everything was clean and sterilized.

She saw that he’d taken her purse when he’d found her, and she rushed over, finding that her mask had been washed and pressed. Her keys were still in their hook, and there were a nice wad of notes stuffed into the main pocket.

Above it hung her little cape, which she slung over her shoulders to keep warm.

Her shift was covered in blood, but it looked as though her skirt and blouse were clean enough.

Oh, lordy! He probably saw me naked.

Her face reddened and she held a hand to her mouth to keep from laughing.

The sheer insanity of the last few hours had turned her world upside down, and as she sat on the stool the doctor had vacated, waiting for his return, she realized how worried her family must be.

As the sun began to creep along the buildings, vanquishing the shadows, the doctor returned, his hands empty, and his face drawn.

“She died 2 days ago, I’m afraid, Ms Brookley,” he answered her silent question, glancing to look at her tear-stained face.

“How-” Petunia’s tone was cold, her voice choked with grief.

“The flu, but also a Skal attack. Several. It seemed as though she had risen from her spot in search of you, however, the Skals reached her before she found you,”

He began busying himself with checking the curtains and tidying away the army of bottles of blood and vials into several glass-fronted cabinets.

Petunia twisted her fingers together, gently tapping them on the worn wood of the table. She could barely manage to keep the waves of grief from overtaking her.

“You can cry, you do know,” he added, noticing her slumped form.

Fat tears welled in her eyes and she did cry, yelping in shock when instead of salty tears, she cried blood.

"I'm so sorry, my dear progeny. It hurts, I know,"

he guided her back to the chair and allowed her to sit, looking her over as he went and grabbed his coat off the hook.

"I must bid you adieu, my dear. For the sun rises," he said, shutting the door of the room with a snap.


End file.
